


Let's Go Fly a Kite

by artenon



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It's such a beautiful day, don't you think?” Dick asked, throwing his arm out and gesturing grandly. “The perfect day for a picnic.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Go Fly a Kite

**Author's Note:**

> (or The One Where They All Act Like Kids)
> 
> Written from the Gotham Secret Santa exchange on tumblr! My prompt, from finalciclico/mary-anneh, was Batsiblings having fun together or Dick and Damian bonding. I tried for both.
> 
> Merry (belated) Christmas!

“It’s such a beautiful day, don’t you think?” Dick asked, throwing his arm out and gesturing grandly. “The perfect day for a picnic.” He punctuated this statement by doing a forward handspring, then cartwheeled his way up a gentle slope.

“What a child,” Damian muttered, shaking his head and shifting his grip on the picnic basket in his hand.

“Don’t forget that you actually are one,” Tim reminded him, all haughty as, it seemed to Damian, he was wont to act.

“Perhaps in body, but not mentality, Drake,” he replied.

Jason grinned and swung at him with Dick’s backpack. “Yeah, you’re basically an old geezer, really,” he agreed, and Damian glared at him, retort ready on his tongue.

“Hurry up, guys!” Dick called before he could speak. “We haven’t got all day!”

They did, actually, if Dick had been telling the truth when he’d dragged Damian out of the manor, announcing that there was to be no work for the rest of the day, only relaxing at the park. Which seemed like a _complete_ waste of time to Damian, but he’d quickly learned that there was no point in trying to argue with Dick once he’d made up his mind.

Dick had selected for their picnic a shady site beside a large oak. Damian claimed the spot where he could lean against the tree’s thick trunk and set the picnic basket down.

“Today is going to be a wonderful day,” Dick said with conviction as he and Tim spread the blanket; Jason dived for the basket and began to set out the food.

“Too windy, if you ask me,” Damian replied, wrapping his arms around himself as branches and leaves rattled above him.

“It’s just a little wind,” said Tim. “Really, Damian, are you going to let that bother you?”

“Don’t even bother pretending, Drake. We both know you’d rather be somewhere else, too.”

“Even if I do, at least _I_ have the courtesy not to voice it,” Tim snapped.

“Alright, guys, settle down,” said Dick placatingly. “Come on, eat something.”

Damian was tempted to forego lunch just to disobey – he was in a sour enough mood from even before Tim had tried to rile him up – but his stomach rumbled in protest, and so, scowling, he took one of the hot dogs laid out in a plate in front of him and bit into it.

“It’s important to take a break from work every now and then,” Dick schooled them all. “We need to stop every once in a while to have fun.”

“What if our work _is_ fun?” Jason asked around a mouthful of food, miming a gun with his free hand and making a shooting motion.

“Jason,” Dick said, and Damian realized that this outing must also be Dick’s attempt to bring Jason back into the family – why else extend the invitation to him?

Jason reached nonchalantly for a can of soda. “What?”

“What you do,” Dick started seriously, “is – GAH!”

Dick’s speech was cut off with a startled yelp, and Jason grinned. He waved the now-open can of soda in Dick’s face.

 “Jason – you – !” Dick spluttered.

Jason threw his head back and laughed, loud and hearty, as he dropped the can and scrambled up to his feet. Then he was off, sprinting away as Dick chased him while still wiping the sticky liquid from his eyes.

Damian stared after them. “They are both such children,” he said incredulously.

“Yep,” said Tim, sounding bored. Evidently, this wasn’t new to him. He righted the can, which still had soda streaming out of it, before opening his bag and pulling out his laptop, continuing, “Should’ve seen them when they played rooftop tag.”

Damian wasn’t sure what rooftop tag was, but he shook his head in wonder anyway, because how could these _possibly_ be Batman and the Red Hood? He finished his hot dog and reached for another, watching the two _grown men_ as they ran around.

Dick and Jason returned a few minutes later, collapsing onto the grass, chests heaving, still shaking with laughter.

After a moment, Dick sat up and grabbed a napkin to wipe his face with. “Tim,” he said, “are you working?”

Tim flashed the screen at him. “Nope. Playing Solitaire.”

It was a total lie, and Damian knew it, because he himself had glanced at the screen while the other two were still running around like idiots to confirm his own suspicious that Tim was indeed doing work when Dick had forbidden it.

“Huh.” Dick accepted Tim’s answer and rolled over to level a finger at Jason. “You,” he said, “are a jerk.”

“Golly, I’ll be sure to _warn_ you next time before I spray you in the face,” mocked Jason.

Dick made some incoherent noises vaguely resembling Jason’s statement. “You’re not excused from my lecture, by the way,” he warned him. “It’s just been postponed.”

“Well, damn,” Jason said good-naturedly. “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”

 Dick jumped to his feet and waved his hand dismissively at Jason. “Please. Give me some credit. But I’ll deal with you later. It’s not important now because, guys, I brought _kites_!”

“Kites, Dick? Really?” Jason sighed.

“What do you do with them?” Damian asked, looking at the condensed ‘kite’ Dick produced from his bag.

Tim looked up from his laptop screen. “You’ve never flown a kite?” he asked.

Damian frowned at him. “No.” He wasn’t even sure what they were, really (a kite was a bird, wasn’t it?), and that bothered him. He was, in his humble opinion, knowledgeable in a lot of fields, but his ignorance in other areas troubled him, especially when others acted superior about it. But Tim just looked thoughtful.

“Well, you see, Dami, when the wind’s right, you can make this thing airborne,” Dick explained as he spread it open and held it up.

“Let me guess, for no reason other than ‘it’s fun,’ right?” Damian suggested unenthusiastically.

“You nailed it!” Dick replied in cheerful contrast.

“I fail to see how this will be entertaining,” Damian complained as Dick grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet.

“Well, let’s find out, shall we?”

He led Damian away from the tree and put something in his hand.

Damian looked at it. It was, it seemed, a stick with a very long string wrapped around it several times. The string was connected to the kite.

“Okay, hold onto the string here – now run with it,” Dick said.

Damian stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes! Now go on!”

Feeling foolish, he ran half-heartedly a few paces, then stopped and looked at Dick.

“Faster!” Dick urged. “And don’t stop!”

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Damian obeyed, darting forward with the kite trailing behind him. But his efforts proved worthwhile; the kite soon caught the wind and lifted up off the ground.

“Let go of the string now!” Dick called after him.

Damian did so, and watched as it unwound and the kite was carried higher and higher into the air.

A gust of wind pushed the kite farther, and Damian braced his feet on the ground, grabbing hold of the string again and tugging it gently to steady it.

Dick came jogging up to him, and Damian asked, “Is that it?”

Instead of answering, Dick just said, “You know, there’s a song in _Mary Poppins_ – ”

“Please, no,” Damian groaned, but Dick had already started singing.

“ _With tuppence and paper for strings, you can have your own set of wings. With your feet on the ground you’re a bird in flight… With your fist holding tight to the string of your kite!_ ”

“Your singing is unwelcome, Grayson,” Damian huffed, watching the kite sway in the sky.

But Dick continued to sing, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder as he did so. “ _Let’s go fly a kite, up to the highest height! Let’s go fly a kite and sent it soaring… Up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear! Oh, let’s go… fly a kite!_ ”

Damian sighed; there really was nothing that could be done about Dick’s _constant_ urge to sing pieces from old musicals. He did his best to tune Dick out as he stared at the kite, straining against its string. It would have blown far away by now if not for Damian and the string grounding it.

“You could fly like that, too, my little Robin,” Dick said to him quietly.

And Damian wondered, if he flew high, high, high, where he couldn’t get down on his own and the wind threatened to carry him far away, would Dick be there to ground him? Could Dick be his kite string when he forgot what truly mattered?

A hand clapped him on the back, and Damian jumped.

“Don’t look so tense, lil’ D,” Dick said. “This is supposed to be fun and _relaxing_.”

Damian scowled and shoved the stick – handle – thing – at him. “Then you take it. I think you need to calm down after singing.”

Dick accepted it, smiling at him indulgently, and Damian stalked back to the tree, where Jason and Tim were setting up a board game.

“Damian! Come play _Risk_ ,” Jason said, waving him over.

Shrugging, he joined them, but his mind was on other things.

He couldn’t dwell in his thoughts for long, however, because the board game was unexpectedly complicated, forcing Damian to concentrate; he’d never played before, so he also had to take the instruction manual and read through it while Jason tried unhelpfully to explain the rules to him.

“Not fair!” Tim protested indignantly as Jason and Damian teamed up against him.

“Ain’t no rules in war,” Jason crowed, offering a fisted hand to Damian.

Caught up in the excitement of the game, Damian bumped their knuckles together, grinning. “Sorry, Drake,” he said, “we’ll be taking over here.”

Dick returned and joined the game a few minutes later, forming an alliance with Tim to counter Jason and Damian, although the latter team was still on the path to victory – until Jason turned traitor and Damian crushed him in retaliation. In the end, though, Tim emerged as the victor.

Jason, who had watched the remainder of the game and attempted to give advice to all sides, gave him a playful shove. “Good job, Timmy. Of course, you couldn’t have done it without me.”

Tim shoved him back, annoyed. “Yeah, no.”

Jason just pushed him again. “You’re it.”

“Don’t be childish.”

Jason pounced on him, wrestling him to the ground. “Said you’re it, Champ.”

Tim kicked him off and slapped him lightly on the arm. “There. You’re it.”

“Have some fun, will ya?” Jason asked, poking him. “You’re it!” He turned and ran, grabbing Damian by the arm and pulling him along with him. Laughing, Dick followed.

“What are we doing?” Damian asked as Jason dropped his arm and urged him along.

“Playing tag, obviously! Haven’t you ever played?”

“No.”

“You, my friend, have had a deprived childhood. It’s official; I’m introducing you to _rooftop_ tag next – next patrol, in fact. Tell Dickiebird.”

“But what – ” Damian broke off as Tim slapped him on the back.

“Tag!” he said, slightly out of breath, before turning and taking off again.

Abruptly, Jason wheeled around and started running in the opposite direction.

“Well,” Damian said to himself, glancing around before chasing after the others.

\- x-

It was evening, dim and cool, a lethargic atmosphere settled around them. Dick and Jason sat off to the side, playing some complicated card game they had invented. Damian lay on his stomach beside a sitting Tim, playing against him in virtual chess on Tim’s laptop. He propped himself up on his elbows, analyzing Tim’s latest move.

“You really never played any games when you were younger?” Tim asked, abruptly.

“No,” Damian snorted, eyes still fixed on the screen as he worked out his next move.

“Never been to an amusement park? Gone to an arcade? Went bowling?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Drake. All time was spent concentrating on training and perfecting my abilities,” Damian replied as he moved his bishop. “Although Grayson has taken me out on outings to have ‘fun’ before. We went to the zoo once.”

“Did you like it?”

Damian shrugged. “It was alright, I suppose. Grayson enjoyed himself more than I. I think he was disappointed. But he’s been busy lately,” he added as Tim made his move.

“I could take you out. If you want,” Tim said haltingly.

Damian tilted his head and looked up at him. “ _You_?” he asked with a fair amount of disbelief.

Tim crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable. “Yes. Why not?”

Damian snorted, and he met his gaze, challenging him. “Well, I’m sure we’re both aware that you don’t like me. You haven’t exactly been eager to treat me as your brother.”

“The same could be said for you,” said Tim, looking cross, but then he sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I haven’t been trying very hard. But, well. Maybe I can start now.” He glanced at Jason and Dick, engrossed in their game, then offered Damian a hesitant smile. “Do you want to go get ice cream? We can bring some back for everyone.”

“Sure,” Damian agreed. He nodded at the laptop, leaning over to place his finger on the trackpad. “Loser pays.”

“Wait – ”

“Checkmate.”

“Brat,” Tim grumbled, without heat.

“Pain in the ass,” Damian returned.

“And another time,” Tim said, “maybe I’ll teach you about this thing called respect.”

“Maybe I’ll show you some when you earn it.”

“I’m glad we’ve reached the ‘playful banter’ stage of our relationship,” Tim said.

“Oh, this is ‘playful banter’? Because I’m being completely serious,” Damian deadpanned.

Tim stared at him, until a tiny smile twitched at the corner of Damian’s mouth.

“Oh, you insufferable – ”

“Yeah, I get it. Shut up, Drake, and let’s go get ice cream.”


End file.
